


Whatever It Takes

by FrozenMemories



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Drunk Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Whenever Mac is heartbroken, Jack is there to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51





	Whatever It Takes

Watching Mac had always resulted in a distinct softness filling Jack’s eyes. He was well aware of it and had the wits to conceal it where it mattered, but in moments that allowed him to lower his guard he couldn’t be bothered not to let it show.

There was nothing like _that_ going on between the two of them. Not that Jack had never secretly entertained a fantasy or two – at the end of the day he was only a man. With eyes. And urges. Which he preferred keeping to himself.

He could only assume that Mac had caught on to Jack’s casual _letting off steam_ with Parker back in the sandbox. _Don’t ask don’t tell_ was more common than anyone outside the armed forces would suspect. He’d made sure not to cross that line with Mac though. He was too young, too pristine, to be used like that. Plus, he would never risk screwing up their friendship, partnership, for a quick chase of pleasure; he couldn’t.

Neither of them had ever addressed any possible underlying attraction between them, it was just there, like everything else – the easy banter, the trust, respect, their way of knowing how to read each other in any type of situation – second nature, a part of who they were. They’d never actively denied it, either, but there was just no reason for them to categorize it.

Still, Jack had always had that _feeling_ about Mac and so it hadn’t come as a surprise when Mac had first mentioned a guy named Aaron, as casually as he’d talked about girls he dated from time to time.

And when Aaron and Mac hadn’t worked out – Jack was still hazy about the details, but ultimately decided they weren’t a prior concern yet – Jack knew where his place was. Whenever Mac was heartbroken – and it didn’t matter who he’d been seeing, or for how long, because he always committed himself, usually more than the other party did – Jack was there to pick up the pieces.

Granted, the Aaron situation hadn’t been as severe as Nikki, nobody had come close to _that_ disaster since, but the disappointment and dejection was still present in Mac’s glazed over look.

They’d been drinking, which was their preferred modus operandi in a situation like this, it was what helped Mac shut off his brain when he couldn’t busy himself with work, or find distraction in a random task. Maybe not the healthiest way of dealing with difficult emotions, but as long as he wasn’t shitfacing himself Jack wasn’t too concerned. So far it had only been a couple rounds of beers. Four, exactly, Jack was keeping close tabs.

He knew from experience that these kinds of nights could end up all kinds of ways.

Sometimes Mac would get angry and Jack had to interfere when he was dangerously close to provoking an unwanted bar brawl. Not that he’d ever be the first to throw a punch, but he could get sufficiently verbal once he was riled up, and sometimes lost his filter in the heat of things – and Mac’s sass was frequently mistaken by people who didn’t know him as well as Jack.

Sometimes things would turn out the exact opposite. With each new bottle Mac would get quieter, more withdrawn. He’d start brooding, even if he was right in the middle of a crowd, his eyes would just dissolve into that faraway look that Jack was all too familiar with. Those were the moments Jack would take him home, tuck him into bed or – if Mac was still restless – distract him with a movie marathon until he fell asleep against Jack’s shoulder.

It was nights like tonight that marked the exception. They had happened before but Jack was never too sure of their outcome, so he braced himself for anything.

Mac was determined to have _fun._ The grin on his face was lopsided already as Mac was moving through the busy pub, dancing. Flirting with random strangers as he went.

Jack took it upon himself to make sure he stayed in good spirits, these sorts of moods were fragile at best, and he didn’t need Mac to spiral out of it and crash.

Like a hawk he kept scanning the moving masses, following Mac’s gaze to whomever he set his eyes on. Approaching girls never caused much of a problem, but after Aaron Jack suspected Mac might be out for some reassurance from a guy – and those drunken attempts at flirting weren’t always appreciated in places with mixed crowds.

What Mac really needed during these kinds of nights was validation and some sense of safety. A reminder that he was still likable, _lovable,_ even after being dumped. So Jack was there to give him that.

He caught his eyes when Mac swiveled around and offered him a wink that Mac responded to with a nod to the seemingly empty bottle in his hand. After a pit stop at the bar Jack slid up against Mac from behind, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to hold out a cold one to him while pressing close against his back.

Mac instantly leaned back and took a long swig. Jack watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, sweat trickling down his throat, mirroring the small pearls that slid down the bottle in Mac’s hand. It would have been so easy to lose himself in the visual but he had a responsibility, and that was looking out for Mac.

He downed his own beer fairly quickly, then set the bottle down on the first flat surface he could find, before wrapping his arms around Mac’s middle and pulling him close.

Mac grinned and ground his ass back against him, his dancing getting a lot more dirty and uninhibited than it usually was – which was fine with Jack. He’d do _anything_ for Mac. If grinding against each other to some poor quality live rock in a pub was what Mac needed to feel better about himself then Jack was more than ready to provide.

After all, it was a safe bet. It wouldn’t lead anywhere. Jack could allow himself to enjoy the moment, knowing that they were just that: _safe._ There was nothing between them except a fine line they both knew they wouldn’t cross.

It had almost happened once, after another close call, they’d found themselves in a situation they had often been in before – adrenaline surging through their veins, the prospect of _what if_ still hovering like a dark cloud above their heads. And there they’d been, panting heavily against each other’s faces. But where they’d usually have shaken with the laughter of relief there’d still been remnants of tension left, their eyes locked intensely for just a moment too long, feeling that pull.

Jack had swallowed the urge to lean in and instead brought his paw down hard on Mac’s shoulder, shaking his head out of the funk. And that had been it.

Jack knew, even without talking, that it was for the better not to go there. And he was sure Mac had no desire to, even if liquid encouragement made him act otherwise.

When Mac signaled his wish for another drink Jack gently caught his wrist in his hand.

“Look me in the eyes, Mac,” he said sternly, though his eyes softened at the evident effort it took for Mac not to look right through him.

“Let’s get you home, hoss,” he suggested, leaning closer so Mac could hear him over the music.

“But I love that song!” Mac exclaimed, enthusiastically throwing his hands up just to clamp them firmly around Jack’s forearms a second later to pull him along. With all the fondness he had for Mac, Jack relented and let himself be dragged into another round of dirty grinding and off-beat rolls of the hips.

It wasn’t until he had to literally catch Mac from tripping face forward into a bulky guy with two beers in his hands, that Mac agreed to call it a night.

Despite not feeling nearly half as buzzed as Mac was, Jack called them an Uber instead of driving himself, and smiled when Mac curled up against him in the backseat, immediately closing his eyes once the driver started the engine.

He ran his fingers through Mac’s sweaty tresses, heart growing mellow at the contented little sighs the motions drew out of him. He’d make it a point to talk to Mac, sober and clear headed, about what had happened between him and his boyfriend – or ex now, Jack presumed.

As of tonight, making sure Mac ended up safe and in his own bed took priority.

Thankfully Mac was coherent enough to wake and walk up the steps to his house by himself – not that Jack wouldn’t have carried him, but with a couple beers in himself he didn’t feel too confidant about not tripping on the way up the dark pathway. Mac leaned heavily onto his shoulder while they made slow progress on the finish line.

Getting Mac to brush his teeth was the next challenge, but just short of Jack doing it for him, Mac grabbed the toothbrush from his hand with a groan. Jack left him to his own devices in the bathroom after that.

He sat down on the edge of Mac’s bed as he waited for him to reemerge. Digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets he rubbed hard at the weariness he felt building in them. Taking care of Mac was second nature, yet it was emotionally draining on nights like these.

Mac flopped down next to him, flat on his back, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Jack stood and grabbed Mac by the thighs to shift him sideways and make him lie properly on the bed instead of having his legs dangle over the edge. He smiled at Mac’s perfect rag doll impression, and the implied level of trust Mac possessed for him.

“You should take off those pants, bud,” he advised and had to bite back a chuckle as he watched Mac’s usually nimble fingers fumbling numbly with the button.

“Oh Mac, what would you do without me?” He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, even though Mac couldn’t see him with his own closed tightly.

He moved to dress Mac down to sleep appropriate clothes and pulled the covers up over him.

“I wouldn’t be here,” came Mac’s mumbled, belated reply.

“What’s that?” he asked, turning back to face Mac.

“’f not for you I’da died back in the sandbox,” Mac slurred sleepily. The truth of those words gnawed at Jack’s insides and made him swallow around a dry tightness in his throat.

Reaching over he squeezed Mac’s shoulder and softly replied, “Good thing you got me then, eh?”

Mac smiled and found Jack’s hand with his own.

“Stay?”

He didn’t hesitate. Climbing over Mac he wrapped himself around him, spooning him securely against his chest.

“I love you, Jack,” Mac mumbled into the dark, so low Jack almost didn’t catch it.

“I love you too, hoss,” he breathed into the warm skin of Mac’s neck.

The quiet snores Mac let out made him wonder if he’d even heard his reply. He supposed it didn't matter - Mac knew. Or else he would have never said the words first. He reveled in the comfort of that feeling, of knowing they could be this close without second guessing their intentions. 

It was the certitude of that knowledge that let him breathe out evenly and close his eyes until sleep claimed him moments later. 


End file.
